


It's All About Trust (a post 6x15 fic)

by MaraJade4S



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 03:06:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraJade4S/pseuds/MaraJade4S
Summary: When Emma believes Killian has left her, she tries to pack his things. But what happens when he comes back and realizes she's let old fears overcome her senses?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve decided to write this little fic after seeing sneak peek #2 for episode 6x15. My mind kept going to Killian and how he’d feel if he knew Emma had packed his things after his disappearance. The events happen some time after 6x15 or in any case, after Killian’s return. I hope no one takes offence at this, I’m a fan of both Emma and Killian, and I’m not overly worried about how the episode will end. Hopefully there aren’t many mistakes in this, but I warn you it is unedited. Enjoy!

They’re eager to get back home, to have a glass of wine and maybe relax in front of the TV for a bit before retiring for the evening. She’s attached to his elbow and it’s the most homey feelings she’s ever felt. But then, he’s always made her feel this way, even when she was fighting with all her might against the idea of “them”.  
As soon as they enter through the front door, Emma’s eyes fall on Killian’s chest. It’s still beside the couch, where she’d left it. She looks at it guiltily. “Maybe he won’t see it” pops into her head, but she’s not that lucky.

She knows the minute he notices it, because his muscles grow tense beneath her hand. He just stands there looking at it for a few seconds and his silence makes her grow weary. She’d like to tell him she’s sorry. That she’s still afraid to be left alone, even after everything. But that it has nothing to do with him. “Killian…”, she starts, trying to figure out how to tell him everything that’s on her mind at the moment.

He looks at her then, and the words get stuck in her throat. He’s looking at her with such a hurt look in his eyes, like a puppy that’s been kicked by his beloved master, and her heart clenches. It lasts but a second, because he closes his eyes then. He still doesn’t say anything; just takes a few steps inside their living room, sighing heavily.

She wants to go to him. To ask him for forgiveness. She knows he had planned to leave, to find himself - he’d told her everything that happened to get him trapped on board the Nautilus - but he’d changed his mind. He’d always changed his mind in regards to her. No matter what, he’d always come back, he’d put her first on countless occasions. And her first reaction (and second and third, if she were perfectly honest with herself) after she’d noticed him gone, was to believe he’d left. She takes a first step towards him.

“Don’t.” He doesn’t turn towards her, but he passes his hand through his hair nervously. “I know why you’d think I’d abandoned you - bloody hell, I was expecting you to - but, Emma, I hoped you’d see to the man inside like you’ve done so many times before.”

His words cut like a blade through her; she’s never been actually hurt by a sword before, but she imagines it would actually hurt less. And the worst thing is that he’s right. After she’d gotten over her trust and abandonment issues, she’d seen the truth.

He sighs again. “I know why you did it and it’s alright, Emma. I understand.”

His reassurances don’t have the intended effect, though. It just makes her feel even worse because he’s always been so understanding and gentle with her.

He turns towards her then and closes the distances between them. He cups her cheek then, wiping an errant tear away. His eyes turn gentle, then: “It really is alright, Emma, I understand.” His thumb brushes her cheekbone in a soothing caress, then he steps back. “I’ll be in the shed for a bit, love. I … I need to put some order in my thoughts.”

She doesn’t stop him as he leaves through the back door. It kills her that she’s once again done this to him. And not a few days ago she’d stood there berating him for letting old fears overcome him. Some fine example she is. A regular case of the pot calling the kettle black.

No more. She’ll never let those thoughts get the better of her. Not where Killian is concerned. Next time her demons will decide to play with her, she’ll think of this day and what it’s meant for them. Killian deserves her trust - her absolute trust.

Sighing, she bends over to grab the chest. She’ll put all his things back before he comes back. And she’ll cook his favourite dinner. And maybe later she’ll sooth all his hurt in other, more enjoyable, ways, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I posted just the tiny, tiny fic in chapter 1, but the story kept nagging at me. So now I have more to add to that little scene. Fair warning this story contains smut. Mild smut, but it’s there nonetheless. Also, it’s my first time in several years I’ve written anything remotely smuttish, so I hope this doesn’t disappoint. Enjoy!

The dinner’s a bit awkward, but by the time they get to the dessert and move the affair to the living room to watch a new episode of their favourite sitcom while enjoying the cake, they start to warm up to one another. It starts small: she leans a bit towards him, Killian moves an inch closer, then Emma adjusts her position to fold her legs under her, and Killian drapes his left arm casually across her shoulder. And that’s it.

In the next minute she’s leaning into him, and he reclines a bit more into the couch in order to accommodate more of her weight. Her heart beats a furious staccato across her ribcage, and she knows he feels the same way. It’s curious how they’re feeling a bit awkward with one another and yet not. As forlorn as she’d felt a few days ago, before his message had reached her, as foolish and grateful she feels now.

Foolish because she’d allowed herself to entertain the thought that he’d ever leave her, under any circumstances, no matter their problems, and grateful because she has such a man by her side. She can allow herself some leniency because she’d always been abandoned before, but it has got to stop with him. Now that she can think about it rationally, she knows this type of reaction has got to stop. In their lifetime together, they’re bound to have more fights. And if there ever will be another villain to pull something like what Gideon did, or would simply jump on the opportunity, Killian might be dead before she’d even now something was wrong. And that is simply unacceptable.

Her musings are interrupted when she feels Killian quietly yawn besides her. She raises her head from his shoulder to peer into his face. His eyes are tired, but he’s smiling at her, so she does the same. She leans back a bit more and grabs his hook in her hand, tugging him up. He follows her without complaint, barely managing to hit the stop button on the remote before he takes the first steps. 

Emma smiles wider at him - he’s gotten almost proficient at handling modern technology; at least the devices found in their home. She’s proud of him; more than proud really.  
The walk upstairs occupies a bit too much of their time, by Emma’s perception. Maybe by his, too, but he shows no outward sign of impatience. He even slows down to close the door behind them. That’s all she’ll allow, though, so she drags him towards the foot of the bed.

She’s been meaning to do this since the moment she’s seen him again. Since she’d thought he’d left, if she were perfectly honest. In those few agonizing hours, before she’d heard his voice coming from the seashell, the only thing she’d wanted was to see him again, kiss him, hold him and never let go. There’s so much tenderness and love in his eyes, she doesn’t hesitate to close the space between them.

Once in front of him, Emma drapes her hands lightly across his forearms. His hand and hook come to rest on her hips, and when she starts to move her hands upwards, in a gentle caress, he draws her closer. Emma lets her hands rest for a bit on his shoulders, then passes them gently under the lapels of his coat to start the downward movement of taking it off. He doesn’t take his eyes off hers, but removes his arms from her hips long enough for Emma to completely remove the jacket. It drops to the floor but they’re none the wiser. As soon as his arms are free, hand and hook are back at her hips, pulling her in.

The kiss is sweet, lips barely touching for a second. His lips move across hers in an exploratory fashion at first, getting bolder and bolder by the second, making her knees weak. Killian pulls her even closer and Emma raises her hands to wrap them around his neck.

It’s uncanny what this man can do to her with his mere lips, and when his tongue slips into her mouth, she can’t hold back a moan. It spurs him to deepen the kiss and all hell breaks loose around them. She starts tugging on his vest and shirt, on his belt buckle, all the while alternating between sucking on his lower and upper lip. She’s doing it just right, the way he likes it, because he groans deep in his throat; she can’t help but smile. _God, she’d missed him!_

“Emma…”, his voice is strangled, his eyes hooded with desire when she raises her head to look at him. She doesn’t know when he’d delivered her of her coat and shirt, but she’s not surprised - he’s always managed to make her lose her bearings.

Her breath catches when she sees the look in Killian’s eyes. There’s love and desire, and so, so much tenderness. And a wisp of happiness. She means to feed that flame into a full blazing fire.

He cups her cheek, then smiles at her when she subconsciously leans into his palm. “Emma, my love…” 

She doesn’t want words between them at the moment. She’s not good with them, anyway, so she cuts him off with another kiss. The rest of their clothes are discarded in between kisses and laughter; they fall on the bed and he moves to lean above her.

When his eyes lock with hers, the mood suddenly changes. It feels as if she can suddenly sense the passion between them as a physical manifestation, and it takes her breath away. He’s similarly affected, she can tell by the way his eyes widen, then his pupils dilate further, the blue turning always black.

“Killian…” His name feels like a prayer on her lips, one that doesn’t need more words. She cups her hand at the nape of his neck and draws him to her in another scorching kiss. By the time she intends to be through with him, she’ll have shown him again just how much he means to her.

Killian doesn’t waste any time, clearly intent on doing the same to her. They kiss, and kiss, and kiss until she doesn’t know if they’ve been at it for a long while or mere seconds. He moves his lips to her jaw, then to the juncture where her neck meets her shoulder. She’s always been sensitive there, and damn him, he knows it. He’s nipping and sucking at the spot now, but she doesn’t mind. He can leave all the marks on her body he wants, for all she cares right now. She’ll do the same to him in a little while, anyway.

He bites her shoulder, soothing the spot with his tongue next, and she arches into him, losing the train of her thoughts. He groans and intensifies his efforts. Emma moves her hands across his upper arms and back, all the while caressing his tense muscles. She’s always loved the way his body responds to her, the way his muscles ripple across his back when she clutches him, but this time she has a different destination in mind. She reaches his buttocks and pulls him in tighter against her.

They both gasp when he presses intimately against her heated core.

His head falls to her shoulder, previous activity abandoned for how. He’s panting heavily, his voice a whisper: “Emma…”

“I want you, Killian…”, she tells him on a sigh. He’s feeling so tense in her arms; she knows he’s trying to take things slow, but that’s not good enough for her right now. She wants them joined, wants them to lose themselves in each other’s body. “… please!”

To spur him on, she pulls him tighter still. The groan that raises from deep inside him spreads into her chest like a wave washing across the beach, making her burn for him. She feels it when he loses the fight with himself, by the way he sags more into her. Taking it slow feels overrated at the moment anyway. 

He takes her mouth again and the shift in intentions can be felt in his kiss as well. He plunders her mouth and she’s all too happy to let him. And when he withdraws, she sucks his tongue back into her mouth, then proceeds to do her own plundering.

Their hands take a life of their own. His caresses her at the underside of her breast, the hooked arm perched at her head; she alternates between sweeps across his back and adding pressure on his backside. Her legs spread wider, accommodating him even better where she aches most for him.

He’s lost to their passion, her name a plea on his lips. She raises her hips in silent invitation and his cock brushes across her folds. She’s so wet, his tip slips right in. His forehead drops to the crook of her neck. “Swan…”; he’s lost it completely.

He’s deep inside her in the next instant and she barely has time to drape her arms around his shoulders, one hand cupping his head and clutching her fingers in his hair to hold him close to her. Her legs wrap up against his hips just as he starts to move. For a moment, he wants to take it slow again, but all that is forgotten when he plunges deep inside her again.

She can feel herself close to an orgasm and it’s ridiculous how quickly it happens. He’s been inside her no more than three times, but the way he feels inside her, the way he presses on her clit when he’s buried to the hilt in her, sparks and quickens the tell-tale conclusion.

Her name is a litany on his lips, and he starts breaking his rhythm. She yanks his hair back, then slams his lips over hers and thrusts her mouth into his. It’s messy and sloppy, teeth clashing, and in a way it mimics the way their bodies are moving. He’s thrusting deep and hard when her walls start clenching around him. It’s all he needs to let go and she follows him into oblivion.

She holds him tightly to her; her body feels limp and sated, yet she doesn’t dare unwrap her legs from around him. She lowers them to have them locked across the back of his feet, and turns her head to kiss his cheek.

A few seconds later he’s still breathing harshly, but he makes no move to disentangle himself from her. He must feel the same need to belong to one another as she does, to still be joined even after they’ve reached the stars.

Eventually his breathing turns less laboured. He presses his lips against the skin of her neck. He sighs, lowers his hand to hoist her leg up on his hip, then wraps his arms tight against her. “Hold on to me, love”, Killian tells her before he turns them both on their sides. They’re still joined so she doesn’t mind the shift in position. She smiles at him when she raises her eyes to his. There’s contentment in his gaze; and love - that never seems to go away.

His hand rests low on her hip, keeping her tight against him, so she starts to caress whatever is within her reach. “Killian,” she starts, then stops to admire him a bit more. He looks so happy and carefree right now, she’d like to cherish it a bit more. What she wants to tell him will most likely make him frown, so maybe she shouldn’t have said anything yet.

“What is it, love? I can see you thinking. Out with it”, he winks at her.

Smiling, she commences her confession. “I love you so much. I’m sorry I let my fears misjudge you. The minute you disappeared… I mean, I knew it in my mind you wouldn’t just leave without saying goodbye, but I couldn’t really believe it.” She sighs: “I couldn’t let myself believe it.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his hand moves up to caress her arm. He looks serious now, but at least he’s not frowning.

“I felt like a little girl again,” she goes on with her disclosure. “Like when I was 3 and the family I thought had adopted me for good returned me when they had their own baby”. Tears pool in her eyes, so Killian pulls her closer.

His heart aches for her, twisting painfully in his chest. “Swan…”

“And I knew you wouldn’t do that to me, not after everything, but I couldn’t think straight. God, I’m so sorry.” She loses the battle with her tears now and chokes on a sob.

“It’s alright, love. I knew it all along.” His voice is soothing and it wraps itself around her aching heart. “Why do you think I tried so hard to get back to you?” There’s a hint of amusement in his tone, beside the tenderness he always has for her in vulnerable moments. He wipes her tears away, then kisses her gently.

“I love you,” she whispers the words across his lips as he slowly pulls away.

“I love you too, lass.” The words feel like a pledge, a deep commitment he makes to her once again. She pulls him in for another kiss. It soon turns into more, and they lose themselves in each other once again before they succumb to sleep. They make love twice more that night.


End file.
